


bring wind, my love

by possibilityleft



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Cultural Differences, F/M, M/M, Multi, POV Alternating, Prophetic Dreams, Slow Burn, Spirits Made Me Do It, Wedding, destined lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:42:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27967019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possibilityleft/pseuds/possibilityleft
Summary: Katara and Zuko were arranged to be married, neither quite pleased about it, when an airbender blew in and changed everyone's plans.  The Avatar was back, the Southern Water Tribe was in danger, and the only way forward was together -- all three of them.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 47
Collections: ATLA Polyamory Fics, ATLA Winter Solstice 2020





	bring wind, my love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaystrifes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaystrifes/gifts).



There was an irony in it, but Katara couldn't find it funny -- the only waterbender left in the Southern Tribe, forced to wed the prince of the Fire Nation. Her only hope now was that their bodies would be so incompatible that there'd be no firebenders born of the union -- which was really just a myth from a story she was told as a child. If that happened, maybe the lack of heir would force the Fire Nation to look inward instead of outward for a while.

Or maybe her husband would take a second wife, or concubines. Or maybe they'd be deposed and murdered in their beds by a coup.

Whatever happened, Katara didn't think this union would last long. She squeezed the metal railing of the ship, squinting to see the Fire Nation coming into view. She was over-dressed for the weather, but refused to take off her best clothes.

If the prince wanted a princess, that's who she would be. No one knew her secret. She wasn't the best waterbender, sure, without a teacher, but it wouldn't take much, if she planned it carefully.

She probably wouldn't drown her husband in their marriage bed, but she liked having the option. 

*

Zuko paced restlessly around the room, much to the frustration of the servants trying to dress him. The Water Tribe princess would be arriving any time, according to the hawk his father had received this morning. Zuko might not even have known, but Azula, still the favored one even after his return, had wheedled the information from Ozai and shoved it into Zuko like a knife, grinning.

At first she'd been jealous that he was getting married, taking the next steps to solidify his future as the Fire Lord, but then she saw how miserable it was making him, and that was entertainment enough for her. He'd eventually gotten her to leave by summoning the servant who would help him with his formal clothes, but he wasn't in any hurry to meet the girl his father had arranged for him.

"A Water Tribe barbarian," Azula had insisted. "Barely human. They live in ice huts down there. The Fire Nation will be a marvel to her."

Zuko didn't know what to expect. Uncle Iroh had come by earlier in the week and told him a little about the customs of the Southern Water Tribe, but it didn't make Zuko feel any better. And then he'd started trying to explain _marriage_ to Zuko, more specifically the buzzard-wasps and vulture-bees, and that had been so embarrassing that Zuko had fled the conversation entirely.

(He knew what would be expected of him. He would produce an heir, no matter how foreign or frustrating or boring the girl was. And he knew _how_ , he didn't need Uncle to explain it to him.)

"Prince Zuko?" the servant said hopelessly as Zuko turned on his heel again. "Your jacket, my prince?" He held up the robe. Zuko snatched it from his hands and dismissed the man. Shrugging it over his shoulders, he took a deep breath.

He could do this.

*

Zuko and his retinue were waiting at the door to the palace to greet them -- a crowd of silent, stiff people dressed in shades of red, with Zuko standing slightly in front of the rest. She knew it was him as soon as she saw him.

The envoys had described the scar to Katara -- not as a dealbreaker, because the marriage arrangement had been more of a slow menace than a negotiation -- but it still made her draw in a breath involuntarily when she saw him. It was more horrible than she'd imagined, melting his ear and closing his eye to a slit. A childhood accident, she'd been told, but there was something about it that felt horribly deliberate to her, the way it concentrated on his face and didn't spread down over his neck or chest, at least from what she could tell given his heavy crimson robes.

She was unprepared for the way it made her feel -- the pity rising as a lump in her throat overwhelmed the rage that had been simmering in her. Her hands relaxed from fists. She couldn't speak for a moment and looked away to cover it. She wished that Sokka was here. She'd joked with him before she left that she'd be glad to leave her meathead brother behind, but the moment she had stepped onto the ship, she'd been lonely. Her father hadn't come with her either; now that he'd brokered this alliance, he had a lot to do in the Tribe to begin rebuilding. It was just her and Gran-Gran, and she loved her grandmother, but it wasn't the same as having someone her own age to talk to.

Of course, now she had him. Her future husband. Katara looked up and forced herself to meet his eyes. She bowed politely but not as deeply as her Fire Nation etiquette teacher would probably have liked. She was supposed to be Zuko's equal, after all -- or at least, that was how she felt. If he cared too much about bows, they weren't going to get along.

"Welcome to the Fire Nation," he said stiffly. He didn't bow in return. 

They stood there in an awkward silence for a long moment before an old man brushed past Zuko, smiling brightly, and wrapped Katara into a hug. She was shocked, her back straight and arms held to her sides as he touched her. He seemed to sense her discomfort, pulling back and resting his hands lightly on her upper arms.

"Welcome!" he said cheerily. "My new niece! You've come such a long way to join us here in the Fire Nation, and I'm sure my nephew can't be more pleased."

"Uncle Iroh!" Zuko growled behind him, and that was another shock for Katara to realize she had just been hugged by the infamous Dragon of the West, now apparently grayer and more cheerful than he had been as a war general.

"Thank you," Katara managed to say, and then a courtier made the rest of the proper introductions. Katara met Azula and other present nobility, but Fire Lord Ozai was conspicuously absent. Not that she really wanted to speak with the man who had authorized her purchase, but it seemed intentionally rude.

Then she was ushered off to her private rooms to freshen up after her long journey. The servants drew her a very hot bath and laid out Fire Nation clothes for her to wear. Her own clothing was whisked away as soon as she had climbed into the bath, and she lingered overlong, enjoying the warmth and the familiarity of being surrounded by her element. She wanted to practice her bending, but she knew she had to wait until she could be sure of privacy. She knew someone would be watching her in the palace, probably all of the time. She let the water slip through her pruney fingers, falling back into the tub without the extra shining life of waterbending in it, not wanting to get out and put on a stranger's clothes. Her clothes now, sure -- the Fire Lord had generously provided a full wardrobe more appropriate to the climate -- but she knew they wouldn't feel right.

The silk against her skin was light and thin, barely a whisper against her body. It made her feel vulnerable. Zuko had been wearing heavy robes, but these clothes felt hardly decent enough to sleep in.

The servants promised to return to help her dress for dinner, but until then she was on her own so she could settle in. They showed her the little games and embroidery projects that noble women used to pass the time, the closet full of clothes, the courtyard that her rooms opened onto if she wanted to sit in the sun. Gran-Gran had her own space next door.

She let Katara sob into her dress, saying nothing and stroking her hair, letting her get it all out.

*

Zuko knew she was going to recoil from his scar, but it still surprised him how much it bothered him. People were always surprised the first time although usually they tried to hide it better. Well, she'd just have to get used to it.

And then Uncle was there in the middle to be weird and embarrassing, and after that, Zuko was happy to retreat to his own space. He sat down under the tree by the turtleduck pond, or what had been a turtleduck pond once, anyway. He hadn't seen any in a while and he wasn't sure if they had flown off on their own accord or because of Azula. He found himself glancing over in the direction of the wing where he knew Katara was and then looking away again. He didn't want to be a creep.

They'd have more time to talk at dinner. For his own part he'd been surprised by how small she was, overwhelmed by the heavy furs of her homeland. He'd seen her birdlike wrists when Uncle had hugged her. Her eyes were sharply blue, a color he didn't often see in the Fire Nation, and she didn't have any giant scars that he could see, beyond perhaps her country roughness.

After Katara had been introduced to basically every member of the court and then escorted away, he'd watched her go, wondering what their future together was going to be like. Would she hate him right away? He had no illusions that she'd like him -- he was sure his parents had never cared for each other. They had hardly managed to be in the same room together. How they had managed to conceive two children -- well, he didn't like to think about that.

And it was strange that Ozai hadn't come to meet his bride. Usually he enjoyed being present for Zuko's humiliations.

Zuko sighed. He flicked a rock into the pond and watched it ripple. Then he got up. He might as well go do the firebending practice that Katara's arrival had pre-empted. It'd be a distraction for now.

With a final glance toward Katara's apartments and the sliding door, firmly shut, he walked away toward his rooms to change.

*

Once Katara was done crying, her frustrations vented, she went back to her own room so Gran-Gran could have a nap. She didn't ask, but Katara knew this trip had been hard on her too. From what Katara knew, her grandmother had never left the South, although she had seemed to enjoy the journey more than Katara had expected. She felt guilty about dragging her all the way to the Fire Nation where they weren't likely to be welcomed or well understood, even though Gran-Gran had volunteered to come and help her with the transition. Maybe Katara could send her back home in the spring, if the Fire Lord would spare a ship. He might be willing to indulge her by then, if she played her cards right. The spring seemed very far away from where she was now in the still-warm fall. She wasn't sure what she would be doing by then -- practicing polite smiles at formal occasions, sitting in quiet rooms and practicing her forms if not with water. She wanted more than anything to master her element and feel safe in it, but there weren't any teachers here. Perhaps by then she'll have gained some confidence in her place here.

That wasn't going to be easy. She could tell already. Zuko was stiff and unfriendly at first glance, tall and muscled, his golden eyes piercing. He was attractive, something she couldn't help but appreciate, but quick to anger, judging by his frustration at his uncle.

Who was weird enough on his own. She wasn't sure whether to trust his kindness or chalk it up to plotting. This was the man who nearly took down Ba Sing Se -- but in the end, he had failed and become the man who had stepped aside to let his younger brother rule. Katara had tried to listen to the Fire Nation soldiers gossiping on the ship when she could, trying to understand her enemy. None of them knew what to make of Iroh either, although they seemed to fear Ozai's wrath more.

She didn't feel like playing any of the strange Fire Nation games that she'd been given, nor reading their scrolls. She pushed the patio door open slowly and quietly, just enough to see out onto the green space, but someone was out there -- Zuko, standing next to the pond and glancing in her direction. She froze, and after a long few breaths, he turned and walked away.

She was struck by the urge to follow him, but there'd be no way for her to do that secretly. If she stepped out onto the lawn, he'd see her right away. If she went into the hall, someone else would notice her. Even in Fire Nation clothes, she'd stand out. But she was struck with such a restlessness that she couldn't stay still a moment longer. She opened the door to her room and glanced out into the hall. She and Gran-Gran had a connecting door, since this was just a temporary apartment until she and Zuko moved into their own. She was surprised that the hallway was empty. She had expected guards, but perhaps they figured it was hardly worth it. Where could she go now? She was just a defenseless Southern Water Tribe girl, they would think. Unlikely to be adventurous or difficult. Anyone who saw her would know she wasn't from here.

She wasn't taking off her hair loopies or her mother's necklace, though. She touched the carving with her hand and stepped out into the hall. She still saw no one, so she started walking.

The halls of the palace were wide and mostly empty, occasionally decorated with scrolls and little decorative tables. The pillars that held up the roof were enormous and Katara used them for cover when she saw the occasional person. But no one seemed to notice or stop her, not until she ran right into a young man she somehow hadn't noticed until she bumped right into him.

"Hi!" he said excitedly. "Are you Katara?"

Katara frowned. She wasn't ready to go back yet. But this -- boy? Young man? -- didn't seem like he was in a hurry to usher her anywhere. He was pale, gray-eyed, wearing the same kind of simple clothing the servants wore, along with an odd hat pulled down to his ears. He was her age, she thought, or maybe a little younger, and grinning ear to ear, like no one else she'd met so far except for Iroh.

"Yes," she admitted, trying to seem confident. "How can I help you?"

"You're a waterbender, right?" he said casually, as if saying that in the hallways of the Fire Lord was normal and safe to do. Katara's heart dropped. She grabbed his arm so hard she knew it must hurt; he frowned.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," he announced.

"Thanks, total stranger," she said, glaring at him. 

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck, almost looking embarrassed. "Sorry, it's just that Sokka told me all about you. So I feel like I know you already."

Katara glanced around; the halls were still empty. "Come with me," she commanded, and took the man back to her room. It wasn't the safest thing to do, but she didn't know where else she could talk with him without anyone overhearing. She hoped, her hand firm on his wrist as she dragged him behind her, that she really wasn't being watched all the time as she'd expected.

"I'm Aang, by the way," he said, when she shut the door behind him. He bowed, putting his hands together in a foreign way. "I'm the Avatar."

*

By the time Zuko finished his workout, his mind was clear and calm again. The sweat on his neck trickled down into the shirt he shrugged on to go back inside. Normally he took the short route, but he knew as soon as he started walking that he was going to pass by Katara's rooms. He hesitated by her door. He shouldn't knock; he should give her privacy. She was probably tired after her long journey. Plus, he should take a shower before seeing her again.

He knocked anyway and heard a clatter from inside the room. There was no answer for a long moment. Then Katara opened the door a few inches.

"My grandmother is sleeping," she said. "What--"

She stopped, staring up at him, and Zuko almost shivered at the look in her eye. It was as if she was looking into him, somehow.

"Sorry," he said, backing away. He'd known this was a bad idea. "Uh, I just wanted to say… um. Welcome. To the Fire Nation."

"Thanks," she said, still staring at him. "I'll…" She smiled but it seemed forced. "Thanks, I'll see you tonight?"

"Yes," he said, too quickly, but jumping at the chance to escape the awkward conversation. He waved, then felt dumb about that, and turned to walk away. The door slid shut behind him.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," Zuko muttered to himself, taking the shortcut back to his room and collapsing back onto the bed and throwing his arm over his face.

Tomorrow night she'd be here with him. In his space, with those eyes. Tomorrow she'd become his wife.

Assuming he survived dinner tonight, anyway.

*

After Zuko left, Katara made Aang wait five more minutes before he came out of her closet, just in case. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the story Aang had told her.

Everyone knew, of course, that the Avatar had disappeared more than a hundred years ago. There'd been a few sightings of airbenders here and there over the decades, but none had proved to be the Avatar, and most people assumed that the Avatar cycle had ended. But here before her was a strange skinny bald man with airbender tattoos who had apparently been frozen in an iceberg for a century, until Sokka had freed him (by what sounded like a total accident to her, pure Sokka).

Katara also knew that Zuko had spent years looking for the Avatar. That wasn't something that had come up in the marriage negotiations, but the story had traveled as much as he had. He'd never found any evidence of the Avatar alive (or at least none that had come out to the public) and eventually he'd returned to the Fire Nation to prepare to lead it in the future. If Zuko found out that Aang was here, she could only imagine what he'd do. What anyone in the Fire Nation would do -- their histories said that the Air Nomads had attacked first, even though all the stories Katara had ever heard claimed that they were a peaceful people, to a fault.

She watched Aang gently ease a beetle out the door into the courtyard, blowing it into the air with his bending, and she knew the truth. He shut the cracked door after the creature escaped, and she couldn't help but stare at the bright blue line snaking down the back of his neck.

"You need to grow your hair out," she said.

"No one's noticed me yet," he said cheerfully. "I've been here for a week looking for you."

The gall of the man to walk straight into enemy territory just to find a waterbender didn't escape Katara. He was just barely an adult, and she was only a few years older than him, but he had a childishness about him she wouldn't have expected from the Avatar. He hadn't finished his Avatar training, though, and he knew it was crucial to do so. After Sokka had woken him from the ice, they'd gone back to the village, but Aang hadn't wanted to stay long once he got bored of "penguin-sledding." Sokka had stayed behind, but he had revealed Katara's secret before Aang left. She could already see Sokka justifying it in his head -- the Northern Tribe was so far away, and this way Aang could pick up two teachers for the price of one. It seemed perfectly logical except that it was completely ridiculous.

"I was going to go to the Earth Kingdom first," Aang told her. "But I stopped along the way and met a spirit who told me I needed to come here first."

"A spirit?" The idea of a spirit interested in her life at all was hard to believe.

He nodded eagerly. "Yeah, he told me that I should go find the water in the fire, that it was very important if I wanted to restore balance to the world. I knew that had to be you from what Sokka told me."

"I'm not-- I mean-- Aang, there's no way I can teach you. I'm no master myself. And there's the whole Fire Lady thing. I'm getting married tomorrow. Are you sure the spirit didn't mean something else?"

"It's destiny," Aang declared, flopping down on her bed and taking off his hat. She was torn between amusement and annoyance. She sat down next to him, brushing the tattoo on his hand, wondering how the patterns ran together on this man outside of time.

"Do you want to see my arrows?" he said, sitting up and pulling at his shirt. Katara felt a blush rise in her cheeks and she rose quickly and turned away.

"Getting married tomorrow, remember?" she said. "I'd probably be in big trouble if anyone knew you were in here."

"Oh yeah," he said. "Will you think about it?"

"Just to be clear," she said, "you want me to run away from the Fire Nation with you and cross the world on -- "

"A flying bison," Aang supplied. "His name is Appa. You'll love him."

"-- A flying bison so you can master all the elements and bring balance to the world, possibly by… deposing my future father-in-law?"

"That's right," he said. "That's what the Avatar does. It's my job. And I really think I need you with me."

Her stomach dropped when he said that. She was glad she wasn't looking at him. He was definitely a charmer.

"If I leave, Fire Lord Ozai is going to start attacking the Southern Water Tribe again in retribution," she said. "I can't do that to my people."

She hadn't realized how much she wanted to run away until Aang had said it. Of course she had wanted it before then, but she'd made her choice and there'd been no way around it once she'd stepped onto that ship. Not until now. Now, she wanted to take Aang's hand and follow him into the bruised purple Fire Nation sky. From there, she didn't know where they would go.

"Just think about it," Aang said. "But -- I would never want anything to happen to your tribe like happened to mine."

She turned back then to see his eyes shut, his arms wrapped around his knees, his body tense. She recognized the grief -- the intensity of the ache she felt after losing her mother, the way the loss made her body hurt, like a part of her was missing. For Aang, it was fresh, and his entire culture -- his friends, his way of life, all of it.

She reached out and almost touched him when a gentle rap came at the door. In a small indoor whirlwind, he'd replaced the hat on his head and had his hand on the courtyard door.

"I'll see you later," he whispered, opening the door and slipping out before Katara could respond. Instead, she answered the door. It was Gran-Gran, coming to see how Katara was feeling.

She didn't tell her about Aang. She just couldn't. It was too much for her to even think about, her mind spinning through thoughts of Zuko and duty and destiny and waterbending. Gran-Gran gave her some seal jerky to tide her over until the evening meal and she chewed, the salt bright in her mouth, pondering.

*

Zuko had hoped that it'd be easier to talk with Katara during the evening meal, but his father decided to attend, which meant all eyes needed to be on Ozai or he'd be offended. He gave a long rambling speech about the favor he was doing for the Southern Water Tribe by accepting their peace offering of a bride and Zuko could see the tension in Katara's ramrod-straight spine, but she somehow managed not to say anything.

Halfway through the main course, an advisor came and whispered in his father's ear, and he rose and left, but not before wishing Zuko and Katara a happy marriage. He couldn't even manage to make it sound like he wasn't being sarcastic. After he left, Katara muttered something under her breath. Zuko leaned in close. He was probably imagining it, but he thought her hair smelled like the sea. It was nice.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Well, this has been nice," Azula said, addressing the table as she stood and threw down her napkin. "Let's let the lovebirds have some time together, shall we?"

She stared expectantly at the other people seated at the table. It was a small group tonight, the big celebrations reserved for tomorrow -- Iroh, Katara's grandmother, to whom Iroh had been telling stories, the engaged couple, and his father at the head. Only the "family." 

"What a wonderful idea," Iroh said agreeably, offering his arm to Kanna. Katara's eyes met Zuko's with a shared look of horror. Iroh winked. Azula strode out of the room without another word. Zuko knew she was headed for the war room to see what had called their father away. He knew better than to follow.

Iroh was promising to show Kanna some tapestries or something in some dusty room far off, and when the elders left, Katara and Zuko were finally alone for the second time that day. The realization made Zuko's heart beat faster. He knew that Azula had only made that excuse so that she could leave and be on her own business, but what did Katara think? Should he try to kiss her? No, that was crazy, they'd hardly spoken ten words to each other.

"Your uncle is very… friendly," Katara said, looking down at her hands in her lap. She'd barely eaten, he thought. The food had been entirely from the Fire Nation, which wasn't surprising, but the chefs might have tried to make it more familiar for her. Then again, it could just be nerves; he hadn't had much of an appetite either.

"My uncle-- yes," he admitted. "He's very happy I'm getting married. His wife died before I was born, but he always spoke fondly of her."

"That's nice. My mother died in a Fire Nation raid when I was eight," Katara said, her tone the stillness of a serpent before it struck -- a dangerous calm.

Zuko didn't know how to respond. He couldn't believe that he hadn't known. He'd read the dossier prepared for him a dozen times before she arrived, but it was full of nonsense -- her maternal line, her paternal line, a history of the Southern Water Tribe. There was one line about her mother -- Kya of the Southern Water Tribe, deceased, and dates. No other details. Nothing about Katara's hobbies, her relationship with her older brother or her father or her grandmother. He'd wanted more then, but this skipped right past polite conversation to difficult territory.

He set his chopsticks down. "I'm sorry," he said, hoping it sounded as sincere as he felt. It was something they had in common, after all. "I also lost my mom when I was young. It was -- really hard."

He still wondered where she had gone -- if she'd actually managed to escape or if his father's soldiers had killed her. Zuko tried never to mention Ursa in Ozai's presence; it always prompted a fit of rage, and that made him think she might have gotten away, since otherwise he would have been triumphant. But that was all Zuko had to cling to.

His father's soldiers had killed Katara's mother, but here Katara was, in the middle of Fire Nation territory, about to marry into the royal family. Honestly, Zuko thought it was brave. He'd spent years in exile before Ozai finally called him home, years alone with his rage and desperation, with only his uncle for company. It had taken years to heal his head and his heart, to cool down, years of following dead leads on a fool's quest. Without Uncle to teach and temper him, he was sure he'd be dead now, from taking too many risks or simple politics. His goal was always to come back home.

Katara would probably never step onto Water Tribe soil again. She'd live out her exile in a palace full of people who would as easily firebend against you as blink.

She was brave to walk into it, even with whatever sanitized version of their family history she'd been fed. His sadness warred with sudden admiration. He reached out and put his hand on top of her hand, squeezing gently.

"Do you remember her?" Katara asked quietly. "Sometimes I think -- I'm forgetting my mom's face." She reached up with her free hand and touched the Water Tribe necklace around her neck -- a keepsake, Zuko assumed, the blue ribbon incongruous against her crimson clothes. He leaned in closer to see the details of the carving, only realizing how close they'd gotten when he felt her breath on his neck, raising the little hairs there.

"I remember her, I think," he said quietly. "She was a good mom. She tried to keep me safe."

He felt Katara's fingers brush the edge of his scar, right where it met with unburned skin, a sensitive place, and he shivered.

"The scar happened later," he said, and it took a physical effort for him to pull back out of her personal space, but he felt like he needed to, overwhelmed by the touch.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" he said. "Get some air."

"Sure," Katara said. He offered her his arm, and it surprised him a little when she took it, resting her hand against his forearm. It felt oddly natural. Actually, it reminded him a little bit of Mai. They'd only "dated," if you could call it that, for a few months before he was exiled, but she'd held onto him in the same way. He'd liked it.

He hadn't seen Mai since he came back to the Fire Nation, and his letters had gone unanswered. He hadn't pushed it. Azula had given up on mentioning her, even, after he stopped trying, now that she couldn't get a rise out of him any longer.

For once he was grateful for the wide, empty hallways of the palace. It gave them space to ramble and an unexpected amount of privacy considering that they probably should technically still have a chaperone of some kind.

They still had one more day, after all, until the deed was done.

*

The loss of her mother was an experience that Katara was unable to share in the same way with anyone but Sokka, and now Zuko, and his sympathy made her like him more, just a little. She let Zuko take the lead on their walk, trying to make mental notes on the palace layout, and she also couldn't help keeping her eyes out for Aang. There hadn't been a big kerfuffle like she'd have expected if he'd been caught, but Ozai had left their dinner in a hurry. Maybe someone had noticed they had an extra servant lurking around.

"Katara?" Zuko said, and she could tell from the look on his face that he'd asked her a question that she'd completely missed.

"Sorry, lost in my thoughts," she said. "It's been a long day."

"Oh, yes, of course!" he said, eyes widening in a surprise that was almost comical. "Do you want me to take you back to your room? And, uh. We can check on your grandmother?"

Katara had to laugh. "Gran-Gran can take care of herself. I assume your uncle isn't a scoundrel."

"A flirt, maybe," Zuko said, face twisting with familial embarrassment. "But a gentleman from what I can tell."

"She'll be fine, then. She's tough," Katara responded. They'd been talking for what seemed like hours now as the skies began to darken and the torches were lit, mostly polite and easy things, Katara telling stories about growing up in the Southern Water Tribe and Zuko talking mostly about his travels with Iroh. He hadn't said so, but she had the impression that his childhood hadn't been great. Iroh was always getting them into or out of scrapes, though, and Katara found that she liked Zuko's rare, husky laugh.

Finally she asked the question she'd been wanting to. "When you were traveling, did you ever find the Avatar? I mean, everyone says he's been dead for a long time."

She held her breath waiting for a response. It didn't come for a long time. Zuko sighed and stopped walking, his shoulders slumped.

"I never did. I think the Avatar cycle is over for real," he said. "There are no more airbenders. My uncle says it puts the world out of balance, but I don't know if I really believe in that kind of thing."

"Well, who knows?" she teased, feeling relieved. "Maybe there's a wise, ancient waterbending Avatar out there right now, biding her time."

"Does your grandma waterbend?" Zuko blurted out, and they both dissolved into laughter then, holding onto each other for support in their amusement. When the laughter died down, they were still standing close -- close enough that she felt Zuko kiss the top of her head. Katara froze, and after a minute longer in his embrace, they separated and began to walk again.

She could feel her heart beating faster, and it wasn't because of Aang this time.

*

Zuko didn't think he was going to sleep well that night -- he often suffered from insomnia, even when it wasn't the day before a big event. He tossed and turned, alone in his big bed, thinking about Katara. She seemed to like him well enough sometimes, but then she pulled back. This was hard for her too, he assumed, but he was really hoping it'd become less awkward eventually.

It was late. He'd be up with the sun, so why couldn't he just sleep? He shoved his face into his pillow, and that's when the door to his bedroom slid open. He was instantly alert, twisting around to face the door, hands raised in a firebending stance.

"Who's there?" he called out roughly. A servant would have brought a light, and knocked first. He summoned a wisp of fire into his palm.

A wind whistled through the room from nowhere, strong enough to rattle the heavy curtains on his windows, and surprising enough that his fire went out. Zuko leaped out of bed, backing up to the wall and falling into a defensive stance.

For a moment he was sure the figure before him was Azula, but they were built different, tall and lanky.

"It's okay!" the person said -- a man, holding up his hands to show they were empty, not that that meant much. He was wearing a mask from the festival being conducted outside the palace walls right now, in celebration of Zuko's impending marriage. The blue face had a goofy grin on it, mouth wider than the cheeks, and it looked so ridiculous Zuko was taken aback.

"It's okay!" the man repeated. "I'm-- the spirit Huang, and I have a message for Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation. Yep, just a spirit, appearing to you on the eve of your marriage, like in all the good stories."

"No, you're not," Zuko said. "Tell me who you really are, or I'll burn that mask." He lit the lamp on his bedside, trying to get a better look. The "spirit" shrunk back out of the light.

"I'm a spirit!" he insisted. "I have an important message for you, don't you want to hear it?"

In response, high on the adrenaline, Zuko sent a blast of fire in his direction. The person leapt up into the air as if he'd been born into it, jumping far higher than a normal human could, the wind rising in the closed room again as if summoned. Zuko bent at him again, but the man dodged easily, finally landing on a decorative table next to the door and crouching there. He glanced at the door as if considering whether to flee. Then he took the mask off.

"Okay," he said. "Don't yell. But I really need to talk to you."

Even under the mask Zuko could see he had painted his skin with blue paint. Zuko didn't recognize him at all. Of course, if he were an assassin, that'd make sense. Zuko should shout and summon the guards, but he hesitated. 

"What do you want?" Zuko asked.

"I want you to come with me," the man responded. He got down off the table and leaned over. Zuko stiffened, but he was just picking up a little vase that had fallen to the floor and gently replacing it where his feet had been.

"Sorry about that," he murmured. "I know this is going to sound crazy, but I met a spirit that told me I needed to come here to find a bending teacher, that the only way forward was with three."

"You broke into the palace to ask the prince of the Fire Nation to teach you bending?" Zuko was shocked at the gall of this stranger. Also, he thought, if it was a firebending teacher he was looking for, Azula would have been a much better choice. At least considering skill level and not teaching prowess.

"Well, yeah," the man said. "It made a lot of sense once I found out-- " He fingered the mask in his hands, cutting off the sentence. "--I can't share that yet, actually. But believe me, this is absolutely the right thing to do."

"For who?" Zuko asked. There was something about the man's painted face that bothered him, but he couldn't see him clearly enough to figure out what. It was nagging at the back of his brain.

"For both of us, I think. All three of us," the man said.

Zuko threw up his hands in frustration at this ridiculous conversation.

"You don't make any sense. You need to leave _now_ ," he said.

"Calm down, Sifu Hotman," the man said, infuriating him more. Zuko wasn't sure how he hadn't absorbed the precariousness of his position yet. Zuko took a step forward, and when the man didn't move, he took another, and finally he could see the man's face. He had an enormous blue arrow painted on his forehead, like the ones Zuko had seen in the remnants of the air temple he'd visited.

"I'm Aang," he said, offering an old-fashioned bow. "...Maybe I should have started with that. But from what K-- what I'd heard, I didn't think it'd be a good idea. That's why I thought I should try appearing as a spirit, that maybe you'd listen."

"That wasn't a good idea either," Zuko said.

To his surprise, Aang laughed. He was pale, dark-eyed, with a tall, lithe frame, his bald head almost glowing in the small amount of light from Zuko's lamp. He was dressed as a servant, which made sense so far as how he'd gotten in.

"Yeah, I should have just come as myself," Aang agreed. "It's nice to meet you, Prince Zuko. I'm the Avatar."

Zuko's hands came up to strike but Aang was gone before the flame left his fist. He'd leaped up into the air and came down riding on a ball of air, scooting backwards into the hallway. Zuko followed, the blood rushing in his ears, sending fire blast after fire blast after him. The blue stripe continued down the back of Aang's head, into his clothes. It didn't look so much like paint anymore.

"I'd really rather talk!" Aang said, raising his voice and redirecting Zuko's flame away from his own face. "I'm not here to fight you! I want you to come with me--"

Finally, their movements had gathered attention, and Zuko could hear people stirring. Zuko could hear someone with a sleepy question about all the noise. Aang heard them too, and his eyes went wide.

"I'll come back later," he said, somehow mustering the courage to wave at Zuko before turning on his airbending heel and fleeing the scene.

Zuko wanted to follow him -- had to follow him, it was his duty -- but somehow he couldn't. He stood there in the hallway and watched Aang disappear.

"Prince Zuko?" someone asked at Zuko's elbow. Zuko started in surprise and glared down at the offending servant, Omiko, who quailed under his gaze. (They were all like that after a while, if they stayed, and Zuko hated it. But it was convenient this time, at least.)

"Go back to bed," Zuko ordered, stalking back into his own room and shutting the door decisively. He lay down on his bed over the sheets, his mind reeling.

He didn't sleep. When Omiko came to wake him right at dawn, he was already up, practicing his firebending stances, heart pounding, lightheaded.

"Big day, sir," Omiko said, without a mention of last night's commotion. "I've drawn your bath already."

Another twenty minutes in the bath didn't give him any answers about what he should do about the Avatar being _alive_ , being in the Fire Nation, and, not only that, but trying to convince Zuko to, what, defect with him?

He knew what Ozai would do, confronted with such a dilemma. He knew what Azula would do.

And he'd thought before last night, he'd known what _he_ would do, but apparently that was wrong. He'd let the Avatar go.

He was still pondering as he dressed and the Crown Prince headpiece was threaded into his topknot. He had no answers as he went to meet his bride.

*

The whole day was a whirlwind of uncomfortable clothes, long speeches, and bad food. Katara nearly got into a fight with the person who brought her wedding clothes -- not the ones she'd brought with her, but Fire Nation ones, of course. That was upsetting enough, but then the servant also tried to convince Katara to give up her necklace, since it wouldn't match. Katara knew by now that if she did, she'd never see it again. Finally Gran-Gran agreed to take it for her and keep it safe, and Katara put a gold choker around her neck resentfully.

"It won't hurt to not wear it for one day," Gran-Gran tried to soothe her, but it did hurt. This was all Katara had left of her mother, and her father wasn't here either. Nothing was how she'd pictured it long ago as a child. But this was her life now.

She was going to wear it tomorrow, no matter how anyone felt about it. She knew Zuko wouldn't mind. She wondered if he had any mementos of his mother.

She just kept telling herself that they had to make it through the ceremony and then that was it-- they'd be left alone. Or at least she'd have time to breathe. To figure out what to do about Aang and about Zuko. She'd thought she might hate Zuko, but she didn't, so that was good, but it still felt strange to think about being married to him. She was worried about Aang, especially if he was still hanging around to try to convince her to come with him. She wasn't the right teacher for the Avatar, she was sure of this. But she didn't think she'd convinced him.

She poured the wine, and then she and Zuko took turns drinking from the cup. She helped Zuko fasten the princess's headpiece into her hair. Then there was the reception. She looked out at the banquet around her, marveling at the number of people in attendance -- she couldn't even estimate how many there were. These were some of the people that she and Zuko would be expected to rule someday. Assuming that she didn't run off with an airbender, anyway.

Zuko sighed. "How much longer do you think we have to be here?" he asked.

"Hey, these are your people," Katara said, elbowing him gently. "How do you expect me to know?"

He gave her a small, tight smile, and then there were fingernails digging hard into Katara's upper arm. She twisted around to see Azula standing next to her. She was smiling, always seemed to be smiling, but Katara didn't think it was genuine.

"Come on, girl," Azula said. "The sun is setting. Go do your duty."

"What?" Katara protested as Azula manhandled her to her feet. Next to her, Zuko was being more politely collected by his uncle and some distant cousins, laughing and joking.

"No one else wanted to help with you," Azula hissed in her ear. "Get used to it. The Fire Nation is quite… proud."

Katara bristled, but Zuko seemed to be torn between embarrassment and relief. She and Azula followed after him and his group, making their way out of the banquet and back into the halls of the palace.

"You don't have to drag me," Katara said, trying to pull out of Azula's grip, but Azula held on.

"It's part of the charm," Azula said sarcastically. "Look at the blushing bride being dragged away for her wedding night. I can't let you escape, now can I? It'd be such a shame…"

Katara elbowed Azula in the side, watching as the men ahead of them moved around the corner out of sight. She didn't think being alone with Azula was a good idea, and immediately Azula proved her right, grabbing at Katara's hair and pulling hard enough to cause pain.

"Don't forget. There is only one Fire Nation princess," she said. "Regardless of whatever baubles my brother gives you for your hair."

The headpiece clattered to the floor, and Azula scooped it up.

"I'll take care of this for you," she said, the terrifying smile re-emerging. She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Katara alone in the hallway. Katara wished she had a waterskin with her, imagining Azula tripping and falling on an unexpected sheet of ice in the middle of the hall. Or Azula, frozen in her own personal block of ice and thrown into the Southern Sea.

She was really starting to enjoy the vision when someone ducked their head back around the corner and waved at her. She'd probably met him sometime during the day, but her mind was long filled up with names and faces. Probably a nobleman or distant relative of Zuko's.

"There you are! We can't lock Zuko in alone!" he said.

Against perhaps her better judgment, Katara followed him to their bedroom and allowed the men to herd her inside, where Zuko was already waiting. Eventually the hooting and hollering outside faded, Iroh herding the boys away, but not without his own ribald joke first.

"Uncle!" Zuko yelled, his face turning bright red. Katara had to laugh.

"He cares about you a lot," she said. She was still standing near the door. Zuko was standing near the bed, a little awkwardly. He looked at her and frowned.

"What happened to your hair?" he said.

Katara reached up and tried to smooth it, but it wasn't really possible without a mirror.

"Your sister," she said. "She wanted her hair things back."

He crossed the room to her in just a couple of steps, taking one of her hands out of the elaborate braiding.

"Did she hurt you?" he asked, concerned.

"Not permanently," Katara said, although she was beginning to think it was only a matter of time. Here she had thought the hardest part would be getting to know Zuko, being a stranger in a strange land. But between Ozai and Azula, she wasn't sure who was more dangerous.

"Let me help," he said, and then his hands were in her hair and she couldn't move. She felt his fingers gentle on her scalp as he untwisted her hair and removed the remaining clips and fasteners, and she found herself relaxing back into his touch, shutting her eyes. Her worries were blurred out by the sensation.

"There," he said finally, stepping back to admire his work. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, and they stared at each other for a long minute.

"Um," he said. "I just wanted to say -- we don't…" He gestured toward the bed. "We can wait until you're comfortable. It's just the tradition that they lock us in here all night. I can sleep on the couch." There was a long, low couch against the wall with elaborate, pointed flourishes on each arm. It looked extremely uncomfortable.

"It's a big bed," Katara said, and then a yawn escaped her. "It's been a long day. Don't ruin your sleep."

They helped each other out of the elaborate ceremonial clothes, fingers lingering on skin overlong. Zuko's skin was so hot under Katara's hands, but otherwise, he seemed just like a normal man -- not, perhaps, the monster she'd been imagining on the journey north.

They slept after a while, in the big bed, warm and momentarily content.

*

Zuko dreamed. Katara's hair was in his face, smelling of the sea. But then there was the Avatar staring at him, with those big, storm-gray eyes, reaching out to take Zuko's hand.

He was kissing Katara and then he was kissing the _Avatar_ , and excitement pooled in his skin, like an electric shock. Each one took his hand, and for a moment, Katara pulled him, and then Aang, and then together they stepped forward, and that felt solid. It felt right.

Then Aang let him go and ran. Zuko thought he was running away, but he turned and waved, a smile broad across his face. He was shirtless for some reason, and Zuko could see the bright blue of his tattoos, the sleek muscles of his shoulders as he waved.

"Come on, Your Fieriness!" Aang yelled, a laugh in his voice. "Looks like you guys got started without me!"

The dream morphed again, and then Katara was standing next to Aang, holding his hand, taking a moment to lean up and kiss his cheek. It seemed so normal, so natural. Katara was waving too, and Zuko was running toward them, and then he woke.

He was in his bedroom, and there was someone in his bed. He almost began to panic when he realized it was Katara. She was snoring a little, facing away from him, her fallen braids between them.

They were married now. It was still hard for Zuko to believe. He thought about waking her, but it was early yet -- as a firebender, he normally woke with the sun, but that wouldn't be the case for a person used to the months-long days in the South. And no one would disturb them this morning until they called -- one small privilege of being newlyweds.

He got out of bed, stretched, and found enough clothing to be considered decent. Now that the big event was over, his mind turned back to the Avatar, as it had in his dream. Why his brain would focus on _kissing_ him, rather than defeating him -- Zuko couldn't fathom. He ignored the fact that the thought made his heart beat too fast again, just like it did when he looked at Katara. He had to ignore it. The Fire Nation did not marry in threes.

Of course, he'd heard it whispered that the Air Nomads did sometimes -- not marry, but they raised their children communally, and sometimes their pairing off was less than traditional, more than pairs. They didn't have weddings, just partnerships, and those would come and go as needed, just as the monks did. This was another reason to consider them barbarians, so far as the Fire Nation was concerned.

Zuko meditated, trying hard to think of nothing, his mind continuing to betray him with thoughts of Aang and Katara and the three of them, the ridiculous partnership that would be, a wild monk somehow a hundred years younger than he should be, a Southern Water Tribe woman who'd never left the ice before now, the future Fire Lord. It wouldn't make any sense. And he hardly knew Aang either -- he'd been trying to negotiate with Zuko, and Zuko had thrown fire at him. He probably wouldn't be very interested in kissing. He wanted to bring balance to the world.

It would be Zuko's duty as the future Fire Lord to support his father in overturning that balance, in concluding the war and bringing all of the nations under the Fire Nation. 

He couldn't focus. He was glad when Katara finally woke, sighing.

"I had the strangest dreams," she mumbled. Zuko chuckled, low in his throat.

"Me too," he said. "Good morning."

She smiled at him, and it was.

*

Katara was fighting a war with herself. Zuko was charming in an awkward way, and she knew now that she could bring herself to honestly like him. His sister was scary and his father was worse, and the war that the Fire Nation was fighting needed to end. Oddly, she might be in a better position now than before to push in that direction, but Zuko didn't have any real power himself while Ozai lived. If she was going to help end this war, it wouldn't be soon, not if she did it quietly.

Perhaps that was better. Her father's fleet had fought hard against the Fire Nation, and barely survived. The scars showed in her own family. Diplomacy might be their only tool. But it was so unbearably slow.

She wondered if Aang had left. He should have, given that this place was still crawling with Fire Nation elites, nobles who would likely be hanging around for a while, trying to curry favor with the Fire Lord. Somehow, though, she found herself looking for him whenever she saw someone new in the distance. She wanted to see him, but she was scared too. If Zuko saw him and figured it out, he'd definitely attack him, and then what would Katara do? She couldn't stand by and let that happen.

That was why she had the waterskin, she knew, as she made excuses for it to Zuko and anyone who asked. She just liked to have a little water on her if she needed it. Sometimes she got thirsty. It was a habit from home. Her mother's necklace was safe around her neck, and she carried a waterskin like she was ready to go out on the tundra. She knew that most of the people here considered her to be some kind of barbarian anyway -- Azula had made that abundantly clear. So why not do what she wanted to be comfortable?

She'd dreamed of Aang last night -- not just him, but Zuko and Aang and her, all three of them, and it had felt so real. She could still feel Aang's lips on her cheek. She knew what he would smell like -- fresh grass, like in the courtyard. His mouth was cool, and Zuko's hot and wet, but both were wanting.

Both, she wanted. But she knew that was impossible. She breathed in and out, feeling the soft heaviness of the water at her hip. After breakfast, Iroh had come by and asked if they'd like to have tea with him in his quarters. So there the three of them were, seated around the low table, and Iroh was telling a story about how he'd met his wife, which was really sweet. She should be listening closer. She sipped at the tea, which tasted strange, but not bad, and smiled when Iroh looked at her. His face suddenly seemed grim, old, an unexpected change that made her uneasy. He'd gone from easy humor to sudden seriousness.

"Zuko," Iroh said. "Rumors have come to the palace that the Avatar has returned. For real this time. A flying bison was spotted in the Southern Seas."

Katara took another long sip of her tea to hide her hands shaking.

"The Avatar," Zuko said, more angry than shocked. "Has my father heard?"

"He will soon," Iroh said, and Katara tucked that away -- the fact that Iroh had known first.

"I do not think," Iroh continued carefully, "that he is likely to send you again. But it may be wise to prepare."

Zuko rose to his feet, too fast, almost upsetting the table, anger roiling off him in a way that surprised Katara in its suddenness.

"Prepare how, Uncle?" he said, raising his voice. "All the preparations in the world couldn't bring me the Avatar. How can I leave the Fire Nation now?" He gestured at Katara.

"You must be prepared to accept the mission, if it is offered," Iroh said calmly. "Your father will brook no disagreement. You know this is true."

Zuko lifted his hand and almost touched his scarred face, and Katara had a moment of horrible intuition that she hoped was wrong.

"Yes, Uncle," he said, the fight draining from him. "Thank you for the warning."

"It is your sister's turn to try to chase your father's ghosts," Iroh said, sipping his tea.

"If he's out there, Azula will find him," Zuko said, sounding worried. Was he worried that Azula would do what he could not?

"I do not think you need to worry about that," Iroh said. "Please, drink your tea."

After a moment, Zuko sat down again, stiffly looking away from Katara. After a moment, Iroh broke the silence with gentle questions about Katara's life. He was clearly a skilled diplomat, but his fondness for Zuko seemed genuine. He'd passed along this information as a warning. They were getting caught up in court intrigues already.

Iroh started to tell a story from what he referred to as "their travels" -- a bland phrasing for what Katara understood as Zuko's quest for the Avatar, that Iroh had accompanied him on -- but Zuko cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about that," he said firmly.

"Of course," Iroh said, and they moved on to other things.

*

Somehow Zuko made it through most of the rest of the day without blowing up on anyone, even while a mixture of terror and rage swirled in his body. It was the exact chest-tightening awful way he'd felt during that whole journey, only slightly improved by the fact that half his face no longer felt like it was always on fire.

Today they were supposed to be moving into their permanent apartments, a new space that would become both of theirs, instead of just Zuko's. The rooms were all set up already but could be rearranged and decorated to their tastes. Zuko couldn't bring himself to have an opinion about wall hangings right now. He had a portrait of his mother that he kept in his nightstand, and that he'd brought over himself. Beyond that and his swords, he didn't care how Katara arranged the furniture. She kept looking at him as if he should care though, and his patience was fraying. Finally, everyone left and it was just the two of them alone again. Zuko's head was splitting. He wanted to lie down, but the day wasn't over. There'd be a smaller banquet tonight, more feasting, like there was nothing else going on in the outside world.

"Zuko," Katara said quietly. She was sitting on the edge of the bed with her waterskin in her lap, like it was some kind of small animal she was soothing. It would be funny if he wasn't so much on edge.

"Yes?" he said. Meditation hadn't helped, and neither had exercise, so he was trying to stand completely still, his eyes shut, facing some old artwork or another as if he were admiring it.

"Did your dad burn your face?"

"Yes," he said. He didn't want to tell the story.

"They told me you'd been in an accident," she said.

Zuko could feel his pulse in his ears. "It was not an accident," he said, firm, and that's when the door opened and someone slipped inside, closing it quickly behind them and breathing a sigh of relief.

"Aang?!" Katara said, and Zuko opened his eyes, turning, to see the Avatar at their door. Aang looked just as surprised as they were.

"Oh no," he blurted out, "this room was empty before…"

Zuko moved, but Katara was nearly as fast, grabbing his arm and forcing his fire blast wide of the mark.

"Stop," she said, and this was his chance to let the rage out, to destroy the Avatar and possibly this budding relationship. No one would fault him.

_How did she know the Avatar's name?_

No one would blame him, except Iroh, and himself. Thinking about his father and what Ozai had accomplished in his anger killed all of Zuko's motivation to fight. He let his arms drop to his side. Aang was halfway through some defensive form that he dissolved in a puff of air that ruffled Zuko's bangs.

"Hey guys," Aang said. "Did you have the same weird dream I did?"

*

"Yes," Katara said. She glanced up at Zuko for his reaction, and saw him turning red. So he had as well -- interesting.

But when had Zuko met Aang? He'd gone straight into attack mode, even though Aang was in his disguise, tattoos hidden. He knew who this was.

"You didn't tell me you'd met the Avatar!" he said to her, accusing.

"Neither did you!" she pointed out. He huffed and looked away.

"Why are you still here?" he demanded of Aang.

"Well, there was the dream, which was -- wow," Aang said, and now he was red-faced as well. "And I was serious, before. I want you to come with me and teach me firebending. Every time I ignore a spirit it gets me into big trouble. I had to try again."

He coughed. "Also, I think that some of the servants have started to suspect I don't belong here, so I've been hiding out in empty rooms." He glanced around. "Very nice," he said, clearly attempting to be polite. "Very … red."

Katara agreed -- she wished there were more colors to break up the eye and brighten the space -- but this was not the time for it. It seemed that Aang hadn't revealed her secret to Zuko, which she was grateful for.

"You should leave," Zuko said quietly. "My father knows that you're alive. Someone saw your flying bison."

Aang's eyes rolled with panic, and Katara crossed the room to grab his sleeve before he could flee. "Not here," she said, trying to clarify for Zuko. "In the Southern Sea. But they'll be tracking you. You really should go."

He caught her hand and squeezed it. "Please come. Both of you," he pleaded. "While we still can. There's a chance… I have to try to master the elements and do what's right."

Katara felt Zuko's warm bulk at her back, Aang's soft face before her. He was beginning to grow a beard, she noticed, and she wanted to touch his scratchy chin. She wanted to lean back into Zuko's arms. She wanted, as Zuko pressed closer to her, to see him take the Avatar's chin in his hands, and press their lips together.

She saw Aang swallow, looking up and past her at Zuko, and she thought he felt the same. It wasn't common among her people to take more than one spouse, but it wasn't forbidden. Of course, in the current circumstances, it was impossible. She had to quit thinking about this and convince Aang to leave for his own safety.

And so he would quit _tempting_ her to leave the Fire Nation, which she desperately wanted to do. Being able to stand her husband was better than she'd expected, but it still wasn't home, and she didn't look forward to the rest of this life's hostilities, even with her water at hand.

She was just one against a nation. And she wasn't even good at her own craft yet. The frustration bit at her and she bit her own lip as Aang leaned past her and touched Zuko's shoulder, tentatively, as if he expected Zuko to strike back. He didn't. The three of them stood in a very close silence for a long moment.

"Okay," Aang said finally. "I'll get out of your hair. But if you change your mind, meet me at sunset at the beach by that rock that looks like a sea dragon."

"A sea dragon?" Zuko said, sounding confused. Aang grinned boyishly again.

"You know the one," he said. "I hope you change your mind."

He let Zuko go and Katara released his sleeve, and Aang opened the door, glancing around outside. Apparently seeing no one, he shut the door quietly behind himself as he left.

"I have no idea what rock he means," Zuko said flatly.

"I guess it doesn't really matter, does it?" Katara said.

"True," he said. "I can't believe I just let the Avatar go."

"Neither can I," Katara said, and it was true on a number of levels.

*

Neither of them had wanted to go to dinner -- the discussion they'd begun to have about how they'd both met the Avatar had been halting and unsure, and Zuko had the feeling that Katara was keeping something from him, although judging from the way Aang looked at Katara, he could guess what. Oddly, it wasn't exactly jealousy he was feeling -- but a desire to know the whole story. He wondered how close their dreams had been and how exactly that had happened anyway -- Avatar seduction magic? Was that a thing? No one had warned him about that.

Iroh wasn't here tonight, and neither was Katara's grandmother. Zuko was a little worried that his uncle had taken Kanna to dinner, and what the implications of that were, but compared to everything else going on, it wasn't worth dwelling on. Not while Aang was here.

Also, he wasn't as sure as Iroh had been that Ozai wouldn't send him away to find the Avatar. Zuko had done what his father had asked and married Katara, but that didn't matter. He'd done what he was told, and if he ever failed to do so, he'd be punished again. That was how the court worked, especially when you weren't Ozai's favorite.

Speaking of, Azula was wearing Katara's hairpiece and a smug look, seated at her father's right hand. She kept glancing down the table at them, seated mid-way to the other end, like the lesser nobility. Ozai was in a good mood, it seemed to Zuko, which was even more suspicious. He called for more wine and laughed at people's jokes, which he almost never did.

Finally Ozai rose and clapped his hands together for attention, instantly summoning silence. Zuko held his breath for a long moment.

"The Avatar has been sighted!" he announced, and judging by some of the reactions at the table, the rumor had done the rounds already. Zuko did his best to look surprised, but Ozai wasn't looking at him. He was looking at Azula.

"Princess Azula has volunteered to resolve that problem," Ozai continued. "He's been spotted in the Southern Seas, which is why, effective immediately, our troops are moving in that direction to complete the annexation of the Southern Water Tribe territories. With the Avatar around, no one will be safe without the protection of the Fire Nation."

"No," Katara said from beside him, rising so fast that her chair fell to the floor and clattered loudly. "No, you can't!"

"Katara--" Zuko said, but Ozai simply grinned at her in his awful way.

"Oh, I assure you I can," he said, and Zuko grabbed at Katara's arm, trying to pull her away, but her hands were at her waist, uncorking the waterskin, and the water slammed his father in the face before anyone could react.

She was a _waterbender_. 

Ozai sputtered and then roared, unharmed but angry, and the guards rushed towards them. Zuko grabbed Katara's arm and pulled her away, running toward the door, ducking as the guards threw fire blasts in their direction, but not stopping.

Behind him their company was yelling, chaotic. Azula would be after them soon, for the fun of it, and the guards were already on their tail. They burst through another door into the courtyard and Katara whirled around, pulling ice from the duck pond and throwing it at their pursuers. It took a lot out of her, he could tell, but they couldn't stop now. There was a door in the palace walls that was often unlocked, a servant's entrance Zuko had used before on occasion when he had to get out for a while. Iroh had shown him once, before they'd left, years ago, winking and joking about what one might get up to in the city, which in Iroh's case was finding his favorite Fire Flakes vendor. Zuko hoped the door was still there. He slammed into it with his shoulder and it popped open easily, Katara still panting at his side, but keeping up.

Unnatural lightning crackled overhead, and Zuko knew they didn't have much time, even in the dark. If the Avatar were sensible, he'd have left already -- at sundown, he'd said, and the moon was high tonight, making it impossible for them to hide. They both stumbled and almost fell as they reached the beach, somehow hauling each other back to their feet. In front of them, Zuko watched lightning burst the sand into glass. He had no other ideas. They'd never escape in a ship. Their only chance was finding Aang.

The ocean was roaring and his blood was roaring in his ears. Zuko dared to glance behind him -- Azula was there, closer than he'd like, her hands crackling with fire. Beside him Katara threw another desperate blast of water, but it splattered on the sand. Zuko wanted to tell her not to waste her breath, but he concentrated on running towards the rocky cliffs ahead. A shadow passed over the moon, suddenly, and then there was another roar -- an animal one, an enormous lowing sound that echoed around them, the wind whipping up.

He yelled in surprise when he saw it -- the flying bison, unbelievably enormous, landing with an earth-shaking thump. On his back, Aang looked impossibly small. He slid down off the creature and ran toward them.

"The other way, Aang!" Katara yelled, waving her arms, but Aang didn't stop.

"Get on!" he said, running past them, and that was what made Zuko stop and turn. Aang couldn't fight Azula. Zuko couldn't beat her -- Aang had no chance, Avatar or not. What could air do but whip up fire?

"Get on the bison," he said to Katara, and began running back towards his sister and Aang. He wasn't surprised when she turned back with him, but he thought Azula might be. He saw Azula's eyes widen, just a little, before she began to fight.

The guards fanned out behind her, and Zuko used his firebending to keep them back and deflect their blows. The wind kept rising and the sand stung his skin, making him squint and try to somehow see while protecting his eyes. There were only flashes -- Azula throwing fire, Katara pulling the tides in, somehow, the whites of her eyes wide with panic and desperation. Aang leapt and dodged and slid around them all, somehow untouchable.

"Now!" Aang yelled, and Zuko dodged another blow close enough to make his hair sizzle. He kicked the guard in the torso, wishing for his swords, and then Azula screamed. He dared a look to find his sister elbow deep in the sand, hands buried, yelling at the guards to pull her out.

They'd formed a sinkhole, Zuko realized, Katara waterbending and Aang -- earthbending, maybe? He couldn't tell. But this was their chance. The guard who had been fighting him was now running to Azula's aid, and none of the others seemed daring enough to try to fight the three of them on their own.

He ran for the bison, grabbing fur and climbing, wrinkling his nose at the weird animal smell, but eventually finding the saddle on top. Aang popped up over the edge beside him, pulling Katara and shouting, "Appa, yip yip!"

Although it didn't seem quite possible, the bison took off, flying away from the chaos below, the three of them huddled together in the middle of the enormous saddle. Aang had a burn on his arm that Katara was clucking over, but somehow they had emerged mostly unharmed. That worried Zuko a bit. His sister always knew the best way to hurt him. She'd find them again. The bison climbed, breaking away until they were over water, and that water far below them. Only then did Zuko breathe. He didn't think Azula had learned how to fly just yet.

"Gran-Gran!" Katara said suddenly, turning to Zuko with a look of horror, and Zuko had a moment to think that perhaps his uncle had seen the way the winds blowing, and had kept Katara's grandmother away on purpose.

"Uncle will keep her safe," he said to her. "I'd trust him with my life." Katara nodded, a bit uncertain, but trusting him.

"You made it!" Aang said. He hadn't let go of Katara's hand once they were safely on board, but he'd also pressed his side into Zuko's, like he needed to touch them both to accept that they were there. "I was about to give up!"

"No, you weren't," Katara said, laughing a relieved laugh and wrapping her arms around Aang's waist, resting her hand on Zuko's back, making an airbender sandwich. It felt strange to Zuko, but he wanted to touch Aang's head, which was again proudly bare, his hat lost during the fight or their escape. He traced his fingers down the back of Aang's neck, making him shiver.

"The Avatar," he muttered. Before his recent dreams and experiences, he'd wanted so desperately to capture the Avatar. Now, Zuko felt captured. There was no going home now. His father would mark him a traitor, and Azula would stop at nothing to destroy all three of them. They were now a nation unto themselves.

"The Avatar, a waterbender, and a firebender," Aang said. "Just like the spirit said."

"I'm not going to make out with you just because some spirit sent you dreams," Zuko exclaimed. 

He didn't want to take his hands off of Aang, but felt like he should. Katara was right there! But Katara was touching him too.

"What about the fact that we just ran away together and now we're all fugitives?" Aang said. "That's kind of romantic, right?"

"We should go back to the South and warn my father," Katara said, the relief of their escape fading quickly. "They have to be prepared."

"Warn them about what?" Aang asked, and once they'd filled him in, he fell back onto his back, sighing.

"I spent too long in that iceberg," he said mournfully. "I've got a lot of work to do."

" _We_ do," Katara said gently, leaning back herself, using his arm as a pillow and looking up at the stars. After a minute, Zuko did the same, staring up at the wide, quiet sky.

"Sure, since there are three of us now, saving the world becomes possible," Zuko said grumpily. They needed backup badly and he wasn't sure how they were going to get it. He knew the Southern Water Tribe wouldn't be enough. Maybe if they could get to the Earth Kingdom and somehow convince some of their leaders to help.

"We have to try," Katara said. Despite the fight, despite everything, she seemed happy. She sat up on her elbow, her hair wild in the wind, and there was a fierce tenderness in her face as she looked at the two of them. Zuko felt his face redden. It was as if she could look straight into him. He wasn't used to it, being seen like this. Iroh could do it too, and it was always unnerving. One day he'd disappoint them. 

He sat up and reached into his pocket, finding the little White Lotus token Iroh had given him not long before they returned to the Fire Nation after their unsuccessful quest. Zuko wasn't sure why he was still carrying it. Iroh had said some platitude about the friends one made with pai sho. He tucked it back away. 

They had no army, nothing behind them, a tough journey ahead. They had no home but with each other. 

Zuko lay back down, and didn't struggle when Aang pulled him closer. 

"Look," Aang said, "there's the Old Sky Bison! His nose points north. Let me go turn Appa around."

He hopped up and scrambled over to the head of the enormous creature like he did this every day, which Zuko supposed was the case. Alone with Katara, he said, "This is a bad idea."

She grinned at him. "I think you just don't want to meet my family," she said, and Zuko put his face in his hands. 

"I don't," he mumbled. "They definitely will not be happy about this."

"I'll put in a good word for you," she said, patting his leg. "I'm going to ask Aang if he can find a place to stop along the way. We'll need some supplies. It's a long journey back home."

She got up and began carefully making her way towards Aang. Zuko watched her talking to him, her mouth against his ear so he could hear above the wind. Aang nodded. 

They weren't going to be able to get any supplies without money, and Zuko had nothing on him but the pai sho piece. But he had the feeling that Katara and Aang were going to want to wing it. That seemed like a lot of Aang's plans.

He had no idea where they were now, but he was more familiar with the path south from the Fire Nation than he wanted to be. He knew where they could go. Ships were slow. If they were careful they could stop, grab what they needed, and escape. Maybe pay with a couple hours' labor. Maybe if they were lucky Azula wouldn't burn the place down behind them.

He looked up at the sky, the glittering stars, and then ahead at the two seated on the bison's head. Aang was pointing and Katara was saying something Zuko couldn't hear, her words snatched by the wind.

He rose to join them, walking carefully on Appa's back, and they both reached out a hand to steady him, which he took, pulled forward between them, where he belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from [Song ("The world is full of loss")](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/23046/song-the-world-is-full-of-loss-) by Muriel Rukeyser.
> 
> Thanks to my wonderful beta who requested to remain anonymous. They took this on last minute and delivered anyway and I'm very grateful. 
> 
> This story was directly inspired by this [tumblr post](https://www.irresistible-revolution.com/post/629276131773808640/au-zutaraang-where-zuko-and-katara-are-arranged-to), so thanks to that anon as well.


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